Machine Wash Only
by Zchocolatebunniesrulezworld
Summary: A month after Mello leaves Wammy's, he's hit a bit of a snag ... Matt, grieving for the loss of his friend, finally gets a phone call asking for--laundry advice? Rated T for Mello.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Huzzah for the Death Note-verse! Huzzah for a two-year hiatus in which I have turned into an animaniac! Huzzah for the Wammys!****  
...erm, so this is mah firstest ever DN-fic and feedback would be lurvely ^_^ We start off with some Matty-angst, but after this prologue Mellokins will appear (not including the one line he's got now)...L just grabbed me by the ears and wouldn't let go, and voilah!--fic-spawning ensued.**

_The clash of swords, the howl of a wolf, the squelch of spilled blood; all are a familiar cadence to his ears. New to Matt is the regretful music signifying "Game Over" and the soft breathing on the back of his neck._

_Matter-of-Fact:_

_"You know, you really suck at that game."_

_Amused:_

_"It's kinda hard to play when you're covering my eyes, Mello."_

_Furtive:_

_"Well, you should still try and rely on senses other than sight. You're too dependent on what you can see, it could get you killed."_

_Derisive:_

_"Hardly matters, dude, in a _video game_. Lemme go."_

_Fingers pause the newly started game before reaching out to take hold of _his_ hands; grasping them for a tantalizing moment before they start to fade away. Matt can't move, can only watch as his best friend becomes as evanescent as the poisonous mist in _Twilight Princess_._

_Soon on the TV screen Link disappears to be replaced with a shadowy figure hunched over, his actions a mystery. All the "bad guys" on-screen keel over in response to this—Kira—and before Matt knows what is going on, Mello appears on the screen; enters the game; Kira smirks as he pulls out a gun . . ._

"NO!" Matt bolted out of bed, shaking, and ran over to Mello's side of their room. He _knew_ the chocolate addict; Mello would be studying for that science test, even at 2:00 AM. He wouldn't miss that test—another opportunity to beat Near—for the _world_. Mello _had_ to be there.

But he wasn't.

Mello, his friend. Mello, his _best_ and _only_ friend. Mello, the reason Matt's life wasn't just comprised of the daily drudgery of Wammy's House. Mello, the hyperactive boy who never stopped moving and was therefore so entertaining to watch. Mello . . .

Who had left.

Who had just walked out of Wammy's—his sanctuary, his home, his life, really—without a glance back.

Matt buried his head in his hands and tried to stem the tears trickling down his cheeks.

_"What a pansy," _Mello would say. _"Honestly, Matt, grow a backbone. I have to do this, you _know_ that."_

"Yeah, Mello, but you know what? You just as easily could have done it with me."

_"You're not as—"_

"Yeah, I _know_ I'm less intelligent! I'm _third,_ I get that! But I could still help you, you might need me…but not half as fucking much as _I_ need _you_! Remember me? Your best friend for more than ten years? Your _only_ friend, the only one who has _ever_ been able to put up with you—all the mood swings, the violence, the narcissism, the inferiority complex, I could go on, Mello—and you just pack up and _leave?_"

"Excuse me, Matt—"

"SHUT UP!" He wasn't even trying to prevent the tears from cascading down his face now. "I'm your fucking _family_, the only family you've ever had—don't you get that we're supposed to stick together? I _love_ you, and don't make any stupid comment because it's not that kind of love, but after my parents died _you_ were the only one I had, and I've _always_ been the only one close to you…_you don't just walk away from that!_"

This was insane. He was yelling at an imaginary incarnation of Mel—

"I am assuming Matt is not directing his comments at me," came a quiet, gentle voice from the doorway.

"Near? What…?" He rubbed his eyes furiously, ashamed of his assumed-private actions. "How long have you been here?"

The younger boy was sitting in his usual position, left knee drawn protectively up to his chest and right hand intertwined in his hair (Matt often compared it to a blizzard, being snow-white and all over the place). However long he'd been there, it had been enough time to construct a miniature tower of dice…how much had he heard? How would he react?

Ignoring his question—typical—Near murmured, "I, too, miss Mello. His presence is quite . . . noticeable, and when it disappeared from this building, there became evident a certain something that Wammy's lacks, when it likewise lacks him. I have no choice but to assume the two are directly correlated."

Well Near might only just be figuring this out but Matt already _knew_ his universe practically revolved around Mello (and, it goes without saying, his only other diversion: Mario).

"Yeah, Near, nice job deducing that. Why, though, did you feel the need to tell me something I already know at…" he glanced at his Final Fantasy watch (breath hitching as he remembered it was a birthday present from a certain blond) "…two thirteen in the morning?"

"Seeing as Matt is not indulging himself in the pastime of slumber, I do not believe my presence is unwanted. Considering the current circumstances, especially…if Matt wishes for me to leave, I shall immediately. If Matt wishes to converse, however…" Near tilted his head, trailing off to bore holes through Matt with his penetrating eyes.

Well, what the heck? Maybe he'd be able to distract the boy from his hysteric sobbing of two minutes ago, and, well, he'd rather not be alone for the nightmares to swamp over him again...

Matt nodded, accepting Near's offer. "You know, if he were here, we'd never be able to talk. You'd've been booted out of the door as soon as he saw you."

"Yes, I do believe his exclamation would be something along the lines of 'What are you doing here, twit, coming to brag about that lousy three percent difference, huh? Well, your goddamn hubris will pull you down eventually, because I'm right next to you, ready to surpass you!' " Hearing "Mello's" passionate words spoken in Near's monotone was disconcerting, to say the least.

Matt said as much, to which Near smiled slightly.

He didn't see why Mello believed the boy never showed emotions. One just had to know where to look for them, it wasn't too difficult. In fairness to his friend, though, nobody spent as much time observing details and looking for tiny clues as Matt did (discrepancies in video game scenery almost always meant a secret passageway or switch).

A yawn cracked open his jaw and Matt realized blearily that he had kept Near sitting in the middle of the dark hallway. He blinked several times, banishing the last vestiges of sleep from his head, and offered, "D'you want to come in? Can't be very comfortable out there."

"Thank-you, Matt," Near replied in his customarily cold--but not unkind--voice, and shuffled slowly into Matt's (far too empty, far too quiet) room, leaving his dice tower stationed in the middle of the hallway, in limbo, with nothing to protect and nobody to defend against. Navigating carefully around the tangle of electric cords carpeting the floor and folding himself down again in the middle of the room, his gaze silently took in all that consisted of Matt and Mello's living quarters for eleven and fourteen years, respectively.

Mello's half of the room, though usually relatively neat (if occasionally littered with chocolate wrappers) currently had drawers hanging open, clothes hapharzadly ruffled through and thrown on the floor, textbooks and journals for lessons scattered across the desk, and a disheveled Matt hunched over on the unmade bed. It was obvious that Mello had packed hurriedly and fled Wammy's as soon as he could. Matt hadn't the heart to disturb the last physical remnant of his friend so he left that half untidy. Sometimes he could even fool himself into thinking Mello hadn't left, was only out to beg Roger for more chocolate or to harrass Near...not his best plan, though.

Whenever he _did_ believe this, once the moment passed, reality just crashed harder and harder upon him and made it more difficult to bear.

The side of the room delegated to Matt usually starkly contrasted Mello's, what with his plethora of video game stations and cartriges, bedsheets strewn across the floor, wires stretching every which way, a few textbooks here and there (most under the bed--Mello never could tell _how_ on earth Matt earned his position of 'third' at Wammy's), and posters of various Marios, Links, Soras, and Chocobo slapped onto the walls, almost entirely covering the boring old white which was visible on Mello's side.

Once Near took all this in, he again fixed his disconcerting eyes on Matt. One could slightly discern a wistful tone in his voice as he asked, "Does Matt recall when he and Mello locked me inside this room for three days? It was over the weekend, so none of our peers even noticed my disappearance. I was actually starting to think Mello would never release me from this confinement, for at the time I was much younger than I currently am. I never quite learned the reason for my imprisonment."

"Heh...you missed Roger's face when he found us out. Redder than that night's tomato soup, he was." Matt smiled at the memory--he and Mello had been forced to clean the entire orphanage, unaided, for an entire week following that escapade.

_"Man, that sucked. Completely worth it, though. Near didn't even get a chance to work on that essay due Monday; we tied at 98 percent! Did you see his face...?"_

_"Yeah, Mello, he didn't care at all. Actually congratulated you, if I remember correctly, and you blew your top. 'What do you mean, good job?!? Insolent prick! Go to hell!' "_

_"...Shut up, Matt."_

Why did remembering hurt this much? What was that icy hot knife hacking into his chest? How could three lines of dialogue with his best friend cause more tears to swell unbidden in his eyes?

Near, though he correctly read the grief those memories instilled in Matt, obviously had no idea how to comfort him. What did one say, anyway, to someone who had been cast off like an old pair of shoes and now had nobody?

Nonetheless, even as words failed the albino genius, he crossed the room, perched on the bed next to Matt, and awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder.

Matt sucked in a quavering breath and held it in, suspended it in time for as long as he could, before he was forced to let it out in a shaky sigh. "He didn't even say goodbye, you know. I didn't even know he was _leaving_ 'til Roger announced it to all of us. He could've...told me, you know?"

"I imagine that he was at a loss as to what to say. If Matt were forced to leave Wammy's, for any reason, what would he tell Mello?"

"I'd take him with me. Either that, or not go at all. There's no way I'd just..."

"Leave." It was no query, simply a statement of fact.

"Yeah."

---

Their conversation stretched past dawn and into the early hours of the morning when most are just blinking their way out of dreamland. Eventually the breakfast bell clanged, calling the orphans down for another day of vying for L's position.

As Matt and his companion journeyed together to the dining room, the thought of L made Matt change the topic he'd been fixated on for hours.

"Near." He'd been in the middle of another tale of havoc-wreaking, this time involving dying all the girls' hair bright green (Linda had had a field day, painting them all. The odd girl hardly seemed to care about her own decidedly chlorophylic appearance).

"Yes?"

"Are you L, now?"

"Yes."

"So you'll be leaving soon?"

"Yes."

And that was all they discussed of the matter.

--

The dullest English professor in the history of all adults whatsoever had long since stopped attempting to force Matt to pay attention in her class. Ever since Mello had left, the redhead spent his days slumped over his desk, letting his teachers' words swamp over his head like a thick woolen blanket and hadn't taken in a bit of information.

So that morning, even the harsh repetition of his name, escalating in sound as it was ignored completely, went unnoticed. That is, until the woman physically yanked his head up to look her in the eyes.

_"You should sue for assult,"_ he'd say. _"The boring old lady is actually a secret child-abuser, such a cliched plotline, but hey, if it gets us out of this pit of boredom, go for it."_

"MATT." All students were addressed informally like this, the teachers likewise, nobody stupid enough to reveal a last name for the sake of etiquette.

"Hmm?" He blinked lazily and wished she hadn't confiscated his SP the previous day...Only then did he become aware of what sounded like--Mario Paint?

His phone was ringing. During the middle of the day. Nobody he knew would call him now; (he'd only even asked for the cell phone to get the games accessible from it) nobody...except...

What impeccable timing, if it was him. Matt hastily pushed his professor out of his face and fled the room, heart frozen in his chest. He couldn't breathe. His hands trembling, he hit 'receive', noting as he did so that the call was untraceable.

"H--hel--hello?" Barely even able to tear out the word.

There was a heart-wrenching pause, in which his hopes escalated and fell and twisted themselves into conondrums and went on a roller coaster ride of roiling emotions and--

"Matt, how the fuck do I do laundry?"

**So, ahm...whaddaya think? I'm a bit terrified, posting this, so tell me how I can improve and whatnot, pleeeaaase! For further chapters, I'll do whatever pairing: MelloxMatt, MattxNear, MelloxNear (which is my favorite, but so hard to write!); just tell me what you want!  
If, that is, I shouldn't just bury this in a deep pit of shame and cover it up with guilt and forget about the mental scarring I've just inflicted on you all...I seriously have no idea if this is good or bad or what, so tell me! Yell at me! Gimme death threats!**


	2. The Mafia and Underwear

**Wow, thank you all for those amazing reviews! So happy-making ^_^ (Scott Westerfeld, anyone?)  
And _phewph_*wipes away sweat*--I find humor sooo. Hard. To. Write. Glad the end worked out! Here, though? *is biting fingernails nervously*  
Poor Matt...I wanted him to put Mellokins in his place, I really did, but he...just...wouldn't. Does that make sense? No? No. I just couldn't write him without making him his loyal puppy-dog self :(  
You lovely people get revvy responses at the bottom, as I am a lazy girl; too lazy to send them!**

_Capitulo dos_

A hurricane seemed to have invaded his mind. Air _whooshed _in dizzying circles, thunder pounded on his ears, lightning short-circuited synapses.

Not anger, exactly, though there was plenty of that. Oh, Matt knew he should scream, should yell unceasingly at the blond for leaving him behind for over a month and then making contact--_finally_--just to ask about _laundry. _He couldn't just condone anything to do with his friend.

But...that _voice_. That low, annoyed-with-undertones-of-humor rasp was so familiar, so _comforting_. Matt couldn't help it, even as much as he wanted to--he fell right back into the role of Mello's Friend as if he'd never left it.

So easy.

"And...you expect _me_ to know, how?"

Mello snorted (so _wonderful_ to be looked down upon). "You _are _still at Wammy's, yeah?"

"Where else would I be?"

"And Wammy's _does_ have a library, correct? You know, the room with the five-mile radius and every type of book in existence?"

"Like when we were eight and stole that book filled with pictures of Russian guys making out! Dude, I think I still have that. But yeah, I get it, stop being so condescending. Kind of a shock, if you didn't know, to have your AWOL best friend contact you just 'cause he's a complete idiot. Just, I dunno, go to the laundromat or look it up online or something."

"Well, fine, if you don't want to help, I guess this is goodby-- "

Panic flooded his mind. "_No! _Kidding, Mells, _kidding_! Jeez, man, get a better sense of humor 'cause that wasn't funny."

He started walking down the carpeted hallway towards the rather extensive library of the orphanage (Mello may not have been exaggerating when he described it as having a five-mile radius...Near had once disappeared for a week in the enormous room and had managed to carpet a third of the floor with a huge expanse of dominoes by the time he was found). Moving around helped to calm him down, even if the movements just comprised of fiddling with PSP joysticks and buttons. How could anybody just stay _still_, unchanging and therefore slipping out of existence (in his opinion)?

"I'm touched, Matt. Miss me that much?" Mello's words were light, fleeting, tone belying the hours and hours of grief and solitude Matt had been swamped in since his absence.

"I..." was he for real? There was absolutely no possibility that he _wouldn't _miss Mello, the most vivacious person he'd ever--his _only_--his closest bond--his--his-- "Yeah, Mello. Of--of course I miss you. You can always come back, you know that."

"You know I can't. I just..._can't_, Matt. Kira-- "

"Don't give me that dramatic crap about how you've "got" to do this; "need" to avenge L or something stupid like that. You can do that _here_, you're just too immature to work with Near. But, seeing as you're going to be an idiot about that, like you _have_ been for--what, six years now?--tell me this: why didn't you take me _with _you?" Anger suddenly rose in a crushing tide of crimson, swamping over him...and, as Mello let out a trembling sigh, it ebbed away just as rapidly.

Matt marveled at the blond's ability to toss his emotions to and fro with nothing more than an exhalation. Where had all that self-righteous anger, all the betrayal and grief, flown off to? Now, as Mello whispered tiredly, "Let's just not talk about this, okay? I need your help. How do average adults manage to wash their clothes when a child-genius can't?", Matt could hear what he really meant.

The unspoken plea was in his tone. _Just go back to before. Pretend. Please._

Matt acquiesced, of course. Since when had he not, when anything involved Mello? "Well, you may be a fucking genius, Mello, but I've yet to see you show one whit of common sense." Ignoring the indignant spluttering, he went on, "here, I'm at the library; hang on for a minute. You've got awful timing, called right in the middle of class, so I'm not technically supposed to be here. Just wait..."

Mello fell into an obliging (first time Matt had _ever_ used that adjective in the same sentence as that proper noun, and probably, he guessed, the last) silence.

"Activating Stealth Ninja Mode," Matt whispered dramatically, and crouched just before rounding the corner where the glass door came into sight. If his position was low enough, hopefully the rheumy-eyed librarian wouldn't be able to spot him over the library check-out desk. His problem was getting _into_ the library; he doubted even this 86-year-old woman would miss the hinges swinging outwards unaided.

(He could hear a repressed snort from the other end of the phone and let a grin stretch across his face.)

Matt army-crawled across the plush red carpet, head tilted to keep the phone affixed to his ear via his right shoulder.

(Crawling felt a tad uncomfortable with his neck cricked likewise, but Matt felt like he'd give his arm if he had to, just to hear Mello's rhythmic cadence of breaths, sighs of impatience, derisive tch's, and the snap of chocolate as it broke off into his mouth. All were proof that he was _alive_, was _here_, hadn't forgotten about his friend. Matt wouldn't allow himself to miss one nuance of the boy who'd supposedly disappeared from his life for good)

He approached the door and stealthily shifted so he could gaze up through his bangs at the room. Unknowingly, his thoughts slipped out in the form of the merest hint of a whisper so Mello easily could hear his every word:

"Your mission, Agent Matt, should you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate enemy territory and acquire vital information for Agent Mello. You cannot fail. To do so would result in all our deaths, by dint of the horrible stench of Agent Mello's unwashed clothes. This begins now."

"Matt..."

"Agent Mello, I am in a compromising situation currently. Is it urgent?"

"Yes: You need to get out more. And try to find a therapist insane enough to attempt to diagnose the psychedelic wormhole that is your brain."

"...I will not deign to reply to that, Agent Mello."

"You do that."

He finally turned his attention to his No.1 enemy, Mrs. Verdomde--or, as was his grandiloquent dub for her, "Mrs. Evil", or E.

"Our arch-nemesis is in sight. Her hair is a gnarled mass of gray twigs, her wrinkles sag horrifyingly. Agent Matt feels relieved that his line of work will not allow him to live long enough to grow old. Agent Mello, be glad you are not here to view this scarring sight. It is too terrifying for your pure soul to cope with."

"Matt, I joined the goddamn _Mafia_. I've seen things that'd give you nightmares."

--

Blunt, thoughtless, like wildfire, those words that instilled an explosion of terror in his heart. Waves of fear. Dizziness. Incoherence. Panting.

"..._Shit_, Matt, I didn't mean to tell you that. Don't--are you _crying?_" Mello paused in shock before his voice adopted a faux-soothing quality, obviously trying to conceal his own quavering speech. "It's not...it's not that bad, Matt. I'll be okay. I need these criminal connections to get a one-up on Near; that's the only reason I'm doing this. I can handle these guys. Stop, please, don't fucking cry..." He sounded close to tears himself.

"You're just...so..._stupid_, Mello," again, to please his friend, he'd tried to stifle the sobs hacking out of his chest, but this time it didn't work. Not thinking, he stood up and slammed into the library, feeling the stupid desire to _move_ even if it got him caught.

Finally he observed, though, that the librarian had nodded off, chin pillowed on her chest and soft snores issuing from her open mouth, oblivious to even all the noise Matt knew he was making.

He stumbled towards the first of dozens of long bookcases lined up in the room and fell against it, shoulders heaving with the weight of this newfound knowledge, that Mello had--

"Do you have _any idea_ what they'll _do_ to you? Do you even _care _what that'll do to _me_?! I can deal with you leaving, with the loneliness and fear even, but if you...if you _die_, Mello? What do I do then? What will I _do_?"

A long pause.

Matt slumped to the floor, leaning back against the edge of the shelf. He felt exhausted; too tired to move or even attempt to convince his obstinate friend that his life was _precious_.

"You know..." Mello's whisper came so quietly Matt could barely hear it through the connection, "I'd have just as great a chance of dying if I weren't in this organization. Hunting for Kira isn't exactly an office job."

"Oh, and that's supposed to make me feel better?" Matt's voice was equally quiet, though no less filled with consternation.

"Well, it's why you're not with me now. I want _you_ to die about as much as you'd wish it on me. Probably less, actually. I've never had parents--you remember yours. _You're _all the family I've ever had, Matt--d'you think I'd let you do this with me? Over my _dead body._" He coughed, seemingly uncomfortable with the sentiment.

"Anyways, the only clean clothes I have are a pair of Triforce-patterned boxer shorts of yours I accidentally packed, so I'd really appreciate it if you told me what to do with all these buttons and knobs. And what the hell is _bleach_, and there's something about color separating...?"

This was an invitation to again pretend nothing was wrong; nothing was different; Mello was still at the orphanage; L was still alive; danger was still outside of their little sanctuary and Mello was still inside it with him.

Matt _knew_ it would only hurt more once they got back to the real world but, now that he had this opportunity, he couldn't help but want to have their old life back--even if only for several minutes through two cell phones that were probably continents apart...

"Doubt you need to worry about that last one. You've got all black, haven't you?"

"You know me so well. Just thought I'd mention it to add to this plethora of ineptitude."

"_Complete_ ineptitude. Such total incompetence that you'd resort to asking for assistance from a poor little, but ineffably superior, orphan such as myself."

"And bipolar, apparently. Weren't you sobbing your eyes out just a minute ago? I guess lack of my very stabilizing company has rendered you completely insane. As opposed to the partial insanity that was consuming you when I left."

"If I'm insane, that puts you so far away from any vestiges of normality it's scary, Mells. Here, let's see if there's a home economics section or something. I doubt they have nothing at all on the subject. It _was_our dear, neurotic Roger who stocked these shelves, after all..." He pulled himself to his feet and ambled aimlessly among the shelves, eyeing the multicolored tomes warily. Matt was all for a good story, plot and characters and themes and all, but books didn't _move_. How could anyone have the patience to sit still for the time it took to _read _them?

"So how is Roger? Relieved that I'm finally gone? And...everyone else? How are _you _doing, Matt?" The wistful tone was not lost on Matt. Mello apparently missed Wammy's as much as it missed him.

"Me? Bored out of my goddamn skull, thanks for asking. There's been absolutely _nobody _to talk to now. My skills are totally owning at that new Mario game, though, without any distractions. Oh, wait--this was either some freaky spirit possessing his body or a dream, I'm not sure, but last night Nea-- "

"NEAR _WHAT_?!? You were in proximity with that egotistical twit _last night_? So, what?--not satisfied with taking my position as first, he's gonna steal my _friend_ too? What the hell is _wrong_ with that bastard? You'd think he'd be able to..."

Matt couldn't help it, even now: it was instinctive of him to tune out Mello's frequent Near-centric rants and work on whatever task was at hand. A section that looked promising finally caught his eye and he trailed his fingertips across the books' spines, looking for...well, something about laundry, he guessed.

As he 'Yeah'd, 'Mmm-hmm'd, 'I know'd, and so on, Matt pondered what kind of person would actually put time into writing a book about _washing clothes_. The kind of boredom that would drive anyone to do so must be immense, all-encompassing, and terrifying. He shuddered at the bare _idea_...he _hated_ being bored...

"...no friends 'cause he's such a scary freak and never goes outside and I don't think I've ever seen him _eat_ anything; how abnormal he can _be_ to go without chocolate for that long I have no idea, and he's just filled with so much hubris but I'm right next to him and he's going to realize it soon when I beat him to Kira..."

"Here, this looks good: Laundry for Dummies. Perfect for you, Mells. And, hey, y'know what? I don't think you actually hate Near as much as you say you do. He certainly doesn't dislike you; we talked quite a bit about you and he acted much more civil than you ever have. He's all right, actually. Misses you, to tell the truth."

Mello paused, a long, ominous pause that seemed to suck all traces of happiness out of the air. His voice, when he finally spoke, sounded dangerously low. "Near...said...he..._missed_...me."

"Umm...well, not _really_," Matt hastily backtracked, though he had no idea why such a concept would anger his friend, "he didn't really say much about you, actually...didn't act... I dunno, nice, or anyth-- "

He couldn't help but drop the phone as Mello let out a scream of rage..._what the...?_

As if bidden by his long angry rant, the albino himself carefully moved into Matt's line of vision. "Good afternoon. I wasn't aware Matt is entertained by the washing of one's clothes, and would he please turn the volume down on his current entertainment system."

"Near, that's not...this is Mello."

Almost imperceptibly, Near's eyes widened as he moved closer to Matt and his phone (the correspondent of which was still spouting obscenities about the newcomer in question). "Why has Mello contacted Matt in this fashion? Does he have a lead on the Kira case? Has he decided to return here?"

"Erm, no...he wants to do laundry, actually, but Near...he's joined the _Mafia_. I'm worried about what might happen to him...how far he'll take this case. Beating you means more to him than anything else--_anything_."

Near drilled into the phone with his eyes and said nothing for a long moment before turning back to the gamer. " I, too, worry about him. I find it difficult, however, to believe Mello would call Matt with simply clothes as his intention. I shall leave you both to continue with your appellations. Please wish Mello a happy birthday from me." And, with that, he left.

Matt had lost track of the date. Was it December 13th already? Was that really Mello's reason for contacting him, and not his laundry?

Hang on...a thought struck Matt. A sporadic, irrelevant thought, but...

He picked up the phone, where Mello had apparently only become more passionate in his rant, and asked, "You said all your clothes are dirty?"

"_And he dares to have the audacity to act as if he isn't the biggest twit on the planet..._hmm? Yeah, 'course. 'S why I'm calling you, isn't it?"

"And all you have that's clean is my underwear?"

"Hit the nail on the head, Captain Obvious."

"So...are you _wearing_ my underwear?"

"Well, you don't expect me to just walk around naked, do you? And I'm _not_ wearing my clothes before they're washed, so I kind of have to.

"...Matt?

"Matt?

"Come on, it's not that weird!"

**...evil FFNet deletes the spaces after italics. AND the whatchamacallits! When you hit shift on the period/comma keys! . . .  
Not much laundry advice, now, is there? These boys just talk too much. And Matt refuses to keep one emotion...I guess, you know, horomones ;)  
Tell me why-y! _Iii, really need some feed-back!_ Tell me why-y! _Beeecause I'm insecu-ure! _Tell me why..._Iii actually haaate, this so-ong!_**

**sakuragawa - **Oh, thank you! I tend to feel that I'm too wordy and focused on details, so to hear that it works...awh ^_^ And, well, who _wouldn't_ want more reviews? But I'd keep writing even if it were just for you, darlin'! (or any other person who happens to be reading this :D) Any and all; I'm just glad this is liked!

**Voice of the Shadow Realm** - Already gave a hysterically-ecstatic reply! Not gonna do it again! :P Thankssomuch again, anyway! Exclamation points are spazzing!

**Jelly** - Yeah, I just adore contrasting angst with humor!...if I can...And open ends are fun to write! Implications, as 'ya said, 'n whatnot. Thank you for your wonderful review!

**Miss Hal Gibson **- Heehee, we both spaz with exclamation points!! ^_^ Yes, that's important! Thankee for reviewin', and this is, like, my soonest update _ever_. I am so proud :D

**MattTheGamer **- I know, right? I'd've chewed his ass off (and then give him a cyber-hug, but that's 'cuz I can't stay mad at anybody. Though I do throw temper tantrums louder than your professional five-year-old-kid)! Matt's just so easygoing, you know? I could only write him as mad/angsty when he's thinking about Mello dying, or when he's all alone. Otherwise, he's all: 'Mello? You want me to go on a suicide mission so *you* can beat Near in a roundabout, really-long-to-explain-in-the-series-even-though-it's-not-that-complicated way? Okeydoke.'  
...there's something wrong with that kid...And I'm gonna try MelloxMatt now (it being by FAR the easiest to write), but Near'n'Matt's friendship-growing is making the pairing more appealing to me!

**ZomgKelley** - Yupperoo, only our dear Mellokins would have the audacity to do this! I'd like to think he cares _somewhat_ about Matteroo's feelings ;) But, seriously, in the manga he was all "Oops, Matt, you died? That wasn't planned...sorry!"  
o.O  
You'd think his reaction would have a BIT more guilt involved...  
And the Matt-Near 'moment' was totally unplanned, actually (yet comprised most of the chapter?), but I had so much fun writing it! Thank you for telling me 'ya liked it!

**Living in a fantasy - **Ack! Ego, get down here! *grabs frantically somewhere in the stratosphere which your review booted that thing into* Awh, thankee so much! You're not the first to mention the fact that Matt shouldn't take this lying down...I hope it's okay that he _did..._I just see him as someone who'd just go with whatever Mellokins says, ya know? As is shown in volumes 11/12 where he effin' DIED because of him! Ackglmashelim...but me, too--if Mello DARED to do that to me...Butbutbut he's so *cute* it's hard to stay mad at him! ^_^  
Heehee, Matt/Mello it is then! How can you not like MelloxNear, though? THE POTENTIAL FOR ABUSE!  
Erm...that didn't come out right...they're just opposites, ne? They complete each other! 'Course that's no basis for a *relationship*, I guess, but...ack. Go to ; MelloxNear doujinshis for da win!  
(Oh, yeah. You wouldn't do that, would you, if you just ship Mello/Matt? But monogamy is *so* last week! Mello can be with them both!)


	3. Small Explosions and Newfound Conviction

**No idea about this chappie...  
Again, thank you for the reviews! I love you all! Replies are at the bottom ^_^ Lazy peeps rock.  
I just realized I forgot one of these, so...  
Disclaimer: Is Death Note a giant orgy? No? Aww...then it was all a dream...I don't own it T_T**

_Capitulo tres_

Laundry is a lot harder to do, apparently, than most adults make it seem.

Matt decided to rectify that statement--laundry is a lot harder for _Mello_ to do, apparently, than most adults make it seem.

Matt knew his chocolate addict had an IQ just shy of 200, so how had he managed to mess up _every single step_ Matt described to him, no matter how simple?

--

Take the conversation of two minutes ago, for one of the prettier examples:

"Okay, Mells, now you measure out a cup of that detergent, and _please_ don't drop it all into that hole in the floor again; I don't want to go through the monotony of listening to you at a grocery store for another half-hour."

"...wait, a _cup_? Why wouldn't they want us to use the whole box? Isn't that why they come in the portions they do?"

"Don't tell me you just..."

"M_ay_be..."

"_Argh!_ Mello, the boxes come with enough for _multiple loads! _Even _I_ knew that without having to consult this stupid book!"

"Well, we can still wash the load like this, right? I mean, won't the clothes just get...I dunno...extra-clean, or something?"

"Hmm...this book doesn't mention it. Guess it's not Laundry for Dummies of Mello's Caliber. I have no idea; _I _don't see anything wrong with it...Go ahead."

_**Over-sudsing even a little bit is a problem because it can cause leaks and block drains.** --"Laundry for Dummies, in the footnotes that Matt overlooked."_

"All-righty then. Now you set the dial in the middle to 'Extra-Large'; that's for your load size. And...here, 'Wash black clothes in cold water', so set that other dial to cold. Now, the third one just turns to 'Normal Wash' and pull it back a bit to start the load! Did you get all that, Mells?"

"Yeah, I'm not an idiot, Matt."

"No comment."

"But I think I pulled the third dial too hard, or something, 'cause it's in my hand now. The washer's going, though~!"

"You know what?--your problem. I'm only here to supervise this load; if you need another machine after this, what_ever_."

"Not my money that bought this; I don't care."

_(A thought struck him--'after this'? Was today the last he'd hear of Mello? No, no, don't think about it; don't think about it...pretending right now; pretending nothing's wrong when so much is...)_

"Erm, Matt? Is it supposed to be leaking frothy, foamy white water? And making a rumbling, choked-like sound? And shaking?"

"...If I were you, Mello, I'd get out of there. Like, now."

_A muffled 'boom'_.

_"Did your washing machine just explode?!"_

"Naw, didn't explode, just kinda...ripped out of the wall...I think the pipes were blocked, or something, 'cause there's a lot of that detergent clogging both ends of the pipe."

--

So currently, Matt was listening to Mello scream at some guy named Zakk to go buy another washing machine, and that _he didn't care about the money, dumbass; just go get another goddamned machine!_

"All right, he'll be back in ten minutes. If he's not..." Matt could hear a fist punching something hard as Mello so often did during moments of impatience.

"Isn't ten minutes a bit fast to get a washing machine?"

"Zakk knows what I'll do to him if he doesn't hurry." Matt could practically _see_ his menacing scowl.

He reflected on the fact that the _Mafia_ should be afraid of _Mello_, and not the other way around. False hopes, though. Even Mello couldn't survive the gory revenge Matt knew Mafia members took if _anything, absolutely anything_, went wrong.

_(No, no, forget; pretend; forget; pretend...)_

"You should probably take your clothes out of that broken one. I dunno if they'll be ruined or what..."

"I'll do it later. Talk to me." It was no request. Mello always spoke as if he expected everything he wanted to be handed him on a silver platter. Almost like he considered every day his birthday. Of course Matt didn't mind; he felt content making his friend happy however he could. Almost like _Matt_ considered every day Mello's birthday.

It was only then that Matt remembered Near's comment, and the date, December 13th.

"Happy birthday, Mells. From me and Near. I'd send you chocolate or something if you'd tell me where you are..."

"...Happy birthday...? Th-thanks, Matt. I didn't expect you to, well, remember. Heh. I'm fifteen."

Matt felt rather guilty at the fact that he _hadn't_ remembered until Near mentioned it. Well, he'd only lost track of what the current date was. Had he heard that today was December 13th, he'd have immediately thought of his best friend, of course.

"Hang on, _Near?_ He said-- "

"Don't start, _please_. Let's try and act mature in honor of your birthday, yeah?"

"Fine. I don't care what he thinks, anyway." But Matt knew his friend, he _knew_ Mello, who, despite the tough facade he put up, was almost certainly happy someone else had cared enough to remember this date as well. Even if that someone else _was_ Near.

He smiled. Mello _had_ changed; his voice was harder, more wary; but he still had that obstinate, temperamental air covering genuine humanity underneath. It was good to know he was still Mello on the inside.

But Matt wanted more, _needed_ more. He couldn't function properly without the boy he'd grown up alongside. The mere thought that he might lose Mello, _again,_ terrified him. It felt almost worse than the last time, because now Matt knew what was coming, and knew how he'd feel if Mello left him again.

He resolved to use this conversation, this one tiny dust-coated window of opportunity, to convince Mello to come back. Of course his thoughts had revolved around that very conviction ever since he heard the phone ring, but now he stated it in words to himself, and that made it real; made it possible; forced Matt not to even entertain the barest _possibility _of a thought that Mello would not be back at Wammy's by Christmas.

This would _work_.

But first to convince the window to stay open before pushing it further and letting more light in.

"You know you're not just allowed to hang up, right? When this is done? Even if you do, I'll be able to track you down, so why even make the effort?"

A furious gasp. "Matt, don't you _dare_. These bastards will tear you apart--what, d'you expect them to let you hang out here, playing with your stupid games, while they're working? And by _working_ I fucking mean stealing, torture, gunfights, whores, and _killing people_. Matt, I've _killed_. I've taken a man's life, a precious life, just to get _in_. It's their goddamn _initiation_! I'm no better than Kira now, Matt, because I'm killing people for my own ideals, a means to my ends. To catch Kira, I've sunk to his level, and given a chance, I'd fucking do it _again_! I have to do this. Have to. Matt, I'm not letting you do it with me. You're too...you're worth more than that."

_No. No. No; hold back the tears, the pity; the fear-grief-pain-anger-guilt; they will not consume; the most important thing; the number one priority is to get Mello _out_, to bring him back here and never let him go, nevernevernever let him experience any of that again; nobody will lay a finger on him and Kira will be a distant memory and L will be forgotten and Mello will be with him here, forever, and happy. Have to hold it in to accomplish this. Have to be strong._

"Mello, I'm--I'm so sorry, but _you're_ worth more than this, too. Come _back _and we can do this together, on our own. I swear, if it'll make you come back here, that I'll do _anything_. I can hack into any database in the world, money won't be a problem for us, and I can make connections into the criminal world too, Mells, and it won't be as dangerous online. I'll give you my _life_ if I have to..." He ended in a cracked whisper. "Just come back. I can't do this without you."

"Matt. I'm sorry, too; more than you can know. I...don't know if I can do this without you, either. You're my family, Matt, and that means I do need you--but it also means you _can't do this with me_. I know you're safe here. I wouldn't be able to think straight if you were enduring any of this, too."

"But how do you think _I_ feel, knowing you're in that kind of danger, Mello? I can't concentrate on anything; I'll be in the middle of some stupid schoolwork and I'll try to tell you how boring it is...I actually _turn and look_ at your desk to see if you're there, studying, and when I remember you left I can't stop myself picturing you _dead_, Mello! I can't even _eat_ when anything resembling chocolate is served here! I've lost ten pounds since you left, Mello; not that I care, seeing as there's nobody else to care anymore since you left. I can hear you making ironic comments in my head whenever I'm around Near! I don't want to sleep, because you're all I dream about--I've watched you die, over and over and over in my head...what will I do when you _really_ die and I'm not there to save you, or die next to you, or even say goodbye?

"Everything you _think_ you'll go through if I work with you; I'm already experiencing! It's _no fucking picnic,_ Mello! If you're doing this because you care about me, listen to me--either come back or take me with you; I don't care; but I can't stand the thought of never seeing you again!"

"Matt..." And now, finally, Mello was crying, and choking out half-formed apologies, and not even trying to cover up his 'weakness'. "If you just...I mean, I didn't know you...I miss you so, so much, Matt; you have no fucking _idea _how much I want to see you...hear that stupid Zelda theme song which you never mute, be having a deep conversation with you just to see you look up in the middle of it and go 'What? Mells, did you say something?', see the A's you get after you stayed up all the previous night playing Kingdom Hearts, listen to you shrug off any insults, watch you laugh..._It's not fair_, not fair to you or me, but I can't endure it if you're in danger! You're my one link to our old life, Matt...I can't just..._sever_ it, but I will if I'm anywhere near it! So you can't...we can't..."

Both tried to catch their choked breath and neither spoke as Mello's sobs faded to hiccups of tears.

Matt had seen Mello swing from ecstatic jubilance to vicious anger in the space of seconds. He'd seen almost every emotion play across his friend's face in a matter of seconds.

Save one.

Matt had never seen his friend cry, not when he was six and broke his leg in a fall from a tree, not even when he lost to his rival for the upteenth time after putting everything he had into studying for that miscellaneous test, not when he talked about how much he missed the parents he'd never had...

Mello had always regarded sadness as a weakness, a hindrance whose symptoms should be kept under lock and key. To hear him cry now, over _him, _threw wriggling snakes into the pit of Matt's stomach. What were these roiling emotions?

Fear--terrified Mello would die, by supernatural or tangible means.

Anger--furious Mello refused to work alongside his rival or even his best friend, angry he'd abandoned his entire childhood for the Mafia.

Loneliness--a horrible, gaping hole where Mello used to be.

_Happiness_--so incredibly happy that Mello would cry over him; would miss him.

Guilt--guilty that he felt so good when Mello was so sad...

Confusion--there was a..._something_ inside him, now, when he thought about Mello. The something was everything: happy, scared, angry, lonely, guilty; melded into a confusing whirl spinning around his friend.

Simply "friend", right?

Matt just wanted Mello to come back so he wouldn't be so confused. With Mello, he could be Matt again. Without him, Matt had to wonder--how much, _exactly_, did Mello mean to him? Oh, he knew it in _relative_ terms: more than the world, more than his own life...but how much, _exactly_?

It seemed to matter.

"That'll be Zakk with the washing machine. Hang on a minute, 'kay?" Mello's voice was a thousand times more gentle than at the beginning of their conversation (it seemed so _long_ ago).

Matt listened quietly to the grunting, scraping, and swearing as the new machine was installed, the old one shoved out of the way, and the clothes transferred from the latter to the former. It seemed to take an eternity before he finally heard Mello's voice on the other line.

"Fucking _finally_," he murmured and there was a distinct _click_ and _shhh_ as he turned on the machine.

"Hey, why didn't you ask that Zakk guy or some other Mafia cohort of yours to help you?" Matt didn't really care why; he just said it to keep Mello talking. He felt something ominous drawing nearer. The window was closing...

"You kidding me? He'd laugh his ass off, then shoot me in the face. He just got the new machine 'cause he needs it, too."

Matt decided to rethink his opinion of Mello's standing in the Mafia, which was obviously much lower than he'd assumed.

There was a silence as Matt frantically groped around for a topic of conversation that wouldn't remind Mello of anything to do with Kira. Matt could almost _feel_ Mello's finger hovering over 'End Call', and could certainly feel the panic threatening to overtake him.

Mello broke the pause first, starting hesitantly, "So, Matt, I think I can figure it out from here on my own. Just put the clothes in the dryer and turn it on, yeah? Pretty simple...So I guess we can-- "

"Don't you _fucking_ dare, Mello." Matt aimed for a threatening tone, but when his voice cracked in panic, he knew he hadn't pulled it off in the slightest.

And now the ominous feeling engulfed the redhead as Mello's words came out in a pained, garbled rush. "Look-Matt-if-I-don't-hang-up-soon-it's-going-to-hurt-a-lot-more-I'll-keep-in-touch-I-promise_-I-promise-you_-_Matt._"

_Click_.

The window snapped shut.

Matt stared, not daring to blink or breathe, at the phone flashing _Call Ended (80 mns)_ repeatedly.

Each flash tore a hole through his chest.

--

Puzzles and toys are simple to comprehend. Mechanical and logical in composition, simple to execute the actions typically considered 'playing'.

To Near, they sorted out his own thoughts; put everything into rational place and allowed him to solve any question put to his mind.

People, contradictorily, acted irrationally. A fiery redhead could ignore one completely one week, then barge into one's room crying the next.

This confused Near to no end. Why would Matt enter his room? He felt 98 percent sure this had to do with the recent phone call from a certain blond who managed to confuse Near more than Matt ever had.

His suspicions were confirmed as the gamer in question spouted, "That's it, Near. We're tracking him down. How many countries with big Mafia organizations are there, and which would Mello be most likely to have joined?"

Near crossed to his computer where he already had half of the data they needed pulled up in preparation for these very actions. He hadn't predicted Matt's assistance, but now it seemed logical; the boy's actions fit perfectly in this puzzle.

Only a few more pieces to go.

He would not lose, even at this game which had nothing to do with Kira or L.

--

**Miss Hal Gibson** - Aw, thank you again! Quite lovely, your reviews ^_^ But what the heck is "3 :D"?? I've looked at it sideways, upside-down, through a mirror...the only part I get is ":D" 'cuz I'm not total fail!

**Sparkly Emerald** - Thankee for the review, but...haha, how can you read DEATH NOTE FICS and *not* find any Wammy-Pairings? Isn't that, like, the whole fandom? I'm sorry you hate them--so, so *cute* in my opinion! Umm, so your review was wonderful to read (thank-you again!) butbutbut...*sobs* the Matt/Mello is too good to resist!

**MattTheGamer** - Your review made me burst out laughing! Yeah, Mello's reaction to their relationship would not be pretty, oh no...*scenes of carnage flash through heads automatically*. Wow, I've gotta go find some Matt/Near now to laugh at Mellokins's explosion! Thank you for reviewing (and your response showed a lot more depth to *your* story than I initially perceived! Wow!)

**Living in a fantasy** - Yes, I adore all the books! ('specially "Specials") And of course Matt's gonna try to get Mellokins back! Aw, I guess some people just don't understand the total Epicness that is Mello/Near...wow, I ship every combination of Wammy kids! Haha, I don't pick and choose...Thank you for your review!

**ZomgKelley** - I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote that part with the underwear o.O My immatureness is just as great as yours! Let us revel in our five-year-old mentalities! Thanks for your review, again!...oh no, the again! _What the heck does it mean?!?_...sorry, I fail at those XP

**Ayalli** - 'tis good to hear my idea's original! When I first got on this site with HP fics, I just...urgh...I don't want to think about it...  
But I am finding myself falling more'n'more in love with Matt/Near! At first, I *did* think they were just crack, but there's potential there ;)  
And haha, BB does mess everything up now, doesn't he? I love him with L...but he works with Mello, too, and Naomi...or is there another crackish one out there?

**Hey, and to those of you who've fav'd/alerted and haven't reviewed...(**XlookingXforXaXwayXoutX, lolita376, Edward slept with Poison Akii, Darkness is My Savior, TwilightTarabekah, Pezarin, **I'm looking at you!) thank you guys, too! I love you all...but 'ya can review! I don't bite (except my brother)!  
See you later!  
**


	4. Christmasy Realization

**This chappie feels like 26 hundred words of _blech_. 'tis an interlude, dearies! A..._long_...one...that just wouldn't end (though I do like describing Christmas, being Jewish myself--but I still celebrate the holiday 'cause it's so fun!)...But I'm so excited about the next one! As you shall be...hopefully...XP  
My god I love you all! Thankssomuch for all the reviews (I mean, almost 30?! I'm in, like, a dream ^_^) and I hope you know where the replies are by now. Maybe one of these days I'll get the incentive to actually send them to you, but meh...let's just keep them taking up over half the space...seriously, they're, like, two-thousand words.  
**

_Capitulo cuatro_

It was comforting working with somebody else, comforting to follow someone else's lead again even if that someone wasn't Mello. Matt could just sit back and listen to Near laying out their MO.

"I believe our first course of action should be to apprehend some sort of technology to track phone calls. The chance that Mello will attempt to contact Matt again are nearly completely certain, maybe ninety-nine percent."

"No. One hundred percent." Matt felt no doubt whatsoever that Mello would break his promise.

"Matt, nothing ever is completely certain unless we have evidence."

"No; he _will_ call again. He promised."

Near paused, probably calculating the various reactions he could show and their outcomes, carefully stacking words like card towers in his head. (This was of course accompanied by a physical card tower as well, lying between the two boys in Near's room.)

" . . . Then one hundred percent. When he calls, in any case, we should be able to trace it with the right equipment. Does Matt know how to acquire whatever it is we may need?"

Matt grinned. "Dude, do you even have to ask? I'm in my _element_ here--we'll get him in no time. I can get the stuff by Christmas, maybe a bit earlier if I call in a couple favors..." At the confused look on Near's face, his smirk widened. "I actually have quite a few well-known aliases online. All anonymous, duh, but I hack stuff, trace, start, or get rid of viruses; lots of people owe me. We'll be fine."

"Matt should order this as soon as possible. I would also like to hear his entire conversation with Mello because there may be details he has let slip about his location. A name, a location, a building; any tiny detail could be of enormous assistance. Would you relate your conversation to me?"

Matt instantly coiled up, feeling like some sort of defective malware that wouldn't give out information. "Near, that was private! I'm not telling you-- "

"Even if it would allow us to locate Mello?"

A pause.

"Look, I'll go over it on my own for hints, 'kay? I won't miss anyth . . . _Zakk! Zakk Irus!_" Excitement flew into every pore and drove him to jump up, laughing.

"I am assuming Matt has either remembered something or lost his mind?"

"Yes, I--Near, Mello's in America! He forced some guy named Zakk to get a new washing machine when we destroyed their old one! Come on, let's pack!"

Matt nearly flew to the door when Near's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Matt. I do not deny this is a valuable piece of information, and the chances of Mello being in America are extremely high, but we can't say this for sure just because a mafia underling resides with him using an American name. Besides, we still do not know where in America Mello is located. We can certainly narrow it down by tracking any recent significant changes in the factions of the American Mafia, but I believe our best course of action is to wait for Mello to contact once more."

Matt sighed, hopes falling again. "Right...yeah, you're right, Near, as always. Might as well...do some searching online, I guess. Here, let's go to our..._my_...room. I've got some equipment hooked up that'll help us out."

Near acquiesced and as the two traveled down the hallways which raised them alongside the chocolate addict who wouldn't leave Matt's head, a thought struck him.

"Hey Near, why are you doing this? Helping track him down, I mean. It's not exactly like you were friends, or even on remotely good terms."

"Simply because I dislike change." The reply came instantaneously; he hadn't had to think about it at all. "The routine here at Wammy's has been comfortably established, and I cannot imagine residing anywhere else, or living with anybody else. If this were according to my prerogative, I would suspend November 4th in time eternally, when we were all under the conviction L would return and when Mello was constantly vying against me for his position. I would prefer for conditions to remain as they were when we were children," he concluded.

Matt felt awed--bitter nostalgia, that's what infused Near's voice. When had he ever showed that much emotion?

"You know we're _still_ children, Near."

Disconcerting eyes trained themselves on him. "Does Matt really believe this?"

Matt gave a sad smile. "Guess not, huh. Actually, though, were we ever really kids? All this psychological warfare they've been putting us through here--I guess when I still lived with my parents..."

"I wasn't aware Matt had ever lived outside of Wammy's."

"Well, you were maybe two years old when I came here. It was . . . stupid, actually. I was three and playing one of those educational computer games, y'know? Well, this one was on genetics--dad was all proud his genius kid could understand any of it, but he didn't feel so proud when I figured out I _wasn't_ his genius kid."

He paused. As an unspoken rule, children of Wammy's never mentioned their pasts. Usually, the pain was too much to justify revisiting so one could sate their friend's curiosity. The only one Matt had told this to was Mello...he continued, just to push away the good memories that now hurt so much.

"You know all about recessive and dominant genes, I presume?"

Near nodded slowly, carefully, and waited silently for Matt to continue.

"Blue eyes are a recessive trait. Someone, Mello for instance, has to have a blue-eyed gene from each parent to get his color, right? So if he..._marries_...some chick with blue eyes, too, they only have blue-eye genes to pass on to their...kid. So basically if two people have blue eyes, their kid will too.

"And, if you haven't noticed, my eyes are a lovely verdant hue, yes? Well, dad went _berserk_ when I explained it, stupid as I was. He'n mum both had blue eyes, see. So I, their child, could _only_ have blue eyes, which meant, well...some other guy was in the mix. "Dad"...hit her, kicked her; hurt her pretty bad. She got put in the hospital and he drove me out a few hours away from home 'n dumped me on the streets. Some stupid orphanage picked me up with stupid kids and stupid firewalls over their records.

"So I hacked it, made it look like I'd never arrived, and sneaked out. This kept happening, different orphanages each time, for a couple months 'till L picked up on it and picked _me _up, and, well . . . you know it from there. We never could find my mum."

He felt again that peculiar sense of baring all of himself, putting his entire being into another's hands, to be ridiculed or pitied at the other's will.

Mello had wordlessly hugged him and hadn't let go of his hand for the rest of the day. They'd been eight years old at the time, but the memory rang clear as a bell six years later.

Near stiffly placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. Neither knew what to express or how to do so, so they arrived in silence at Matt's room.

--

They barely left it for the next twelve days, only dragged out for classes and meals by the gruff woman assigned to the orphans' well-being.

--

Both were excited for the coming holiday, having decided Mello would contact on Christmas, but when the day actually came, Matt's hyperactivity tripled and he couldn't sit still.

He jumped up from his computer where he'd just installed the call-tracing equipment and linked it to his phone (thank _god_--now he just had to wait for the call. Mello would call again; they'd always celebrated Christmas together with a montage of chocolate and video games...). Striding down to the playroom which housed the annual tree, he realized it was early in the morning. Once again, he and Near had pulled an all-nighter. When was the last time either of them had slept for more than an hour or two?

The other orphans, including Near, soon filed down into the room as well, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes (most awakened early on this day--genii, yes, but still children, and any holiday held a sort of magic for them.)

Matt allowed himself to enjoy the day, knowing Mello would soon be part of it. He didn't suppress the awe at the enormous pine tree decked out in every type of handmade or manufactured ornament known to mankind; lights twinkling merrily casting shining spots on the multicolored presents at the tree's base; candy canes swiped off the branches by the younger (and older) orphans...who'd think a tree would instill such happy smiles and camaraderie between these children pitted against each other for most of their lives?

On this day, L was forgotten. Rankings were replaced with mistletoe and wreaths adorning the walls; instead of research projects, kids made ornaments; rather than holding secret meetings with the top students, L handed out gifts wearing a ridiculous Santa Clause getup...Mello forgot about Near in favor of tackling Matt to the ground, laughing...

Despite the two most important people in his life being dead or gone, Matt smiled at the warm glow--that of the flickering lights and the rarely-felt good cheer in the room.

Of course L and Wammy were dead. Everyone still felt that pain; the two men had rescued them from traumatic pasts and had become an older brother and grandfather, respectively. But today, with the (numerous and expensive) presents and candy pre-ordered _by_ L and Wammy before their deaths, only good memories resided in their heads.

The day was passed with eggnog, Christmas carols softly resonating from the radio, snowball fights, embarrassing kisses under the mistletoe, and Matt constantly flipping open his phone and turning the volume up. He became increasingly anxious as nine o'clock rolled around without word from Mello.

Near had been eyeing him carefully the entire day from behind a sprawling pile of legos, dice, cards, robots, puzzles...all new, and all preoccupying his attention for the duration of the day. He did, however, pick his way through his new kingdom over to Matt and ask how he was doing.

A bold and quite social move for Near, though Matt had no idea his face had taken on a pallid hue and his hands were shaking.

" 'M great, Near. Why?"

"Even I can tell Matt is depicting an untruth. For the past two hours, he has not turned on any of his new game systems and has been simply staring off into the distance. He is obviously worried as to whether or not Mello shall attempt to make contact today."

He dropped his facade, letting the fear contort his face. "What if he doesn't, Near? What if he lied and isn't going to call again? What if he's already _dead_? I can't _do_ anything to save him!"

"I will not lie to Matt; the chances of Mello being deceased have significantly risen seeing as he has not yet contacted his friend on a meaningful day to both of them. However, there is only a five percent possibility he lied to..._you_, considering the relationship the two of you share."

Near, speaking in the second person? In any other situation, this would have warranted some sort of party. Matt allowed the words to cheer him up and terrify him equally (though he was getting used to his heart pounding, the sweat breaking out, the shaking extremities, at the thoughts of Mello dying which so often played through his head these days).

Neither spoke, just sat next to each other and filled their hands with games and toys, while Mello filled their thoughts.

Why, when Matt had been describing his past to Near, had he felt so weird when he'd used Mello as an example of blue-eyed parents? Why had the thought of Mello getting married, let alone having a _child_, been so...so...heart-wrenching?

He felt like a goddamned teenage girl pining away, waiting for a phone call from her boyfriend or something.

But...Mello wasn't...anything. Not like that. He was a friend, a really good friend, a _straight_ friend, one who Matt couldn't stop thinking about...

Sick. He felt sick, and twisted, and perverted, when an image entered unbidden into his mind.

Mello, covered in--_chocolate_--the sweet dripping slowly down bare tanned skin, tracing muscles agonizingly, pooling at his toes, scarcely covering everything below his waist...

It was disgusting; it was _wrong_ to think that way about your best friend, someone who _trusted_ you, who felt comfortable hugging you and tackling you and generally being in contact with you. He was..._betraying_ Mello, his trust, by thinking about...well, it was wrong. Wrong.

Certain parts of Matt's anatomy said otherwise.

Fucking _sick_, that's what it was.

Where the hell had that picture _came_ from?!

Thoughts about his own distorted, aberrant mind were all that ran through Matt's head for the rest of the night. He was almost _glad_ Mello didn't call because paranoia caused Matt to think Mello'd be able to _understand_ how twisted his friend had become. Then he'd renounce Matt for sure; he certainly _deserved_ it...

Almost glad, that is. Anger from Mello was better than no Mello at all.

Why hadn't he called? He'd promised. During all the time they'd known each other, Mello had never lied, not once. Could it be that he _couldn't_ call...that he was...?

No. Matt would track him down before anything happened. He would bring Mello back before anybody--Kira, the Mafia, a common criminal--touched a hair on his head.

And when Mello returned, any warped concepts that had entered Matt's head would dissipate. Things would--had to--go back to normal.

So Matt kept working. He skipped meals like there was no tomorrow, refused to go to classes, barely turned on his games, slept so little he grew bags to rival L's (though this was in part because of very _disconcerting_ dreams involving...well...). He sat in front of his computer for untold hours during the entire duration of the month of January.

Mello didn't give a sign of his existence since that phone call on the 13th..

When February 1st came, as a birthday present to himself Matt allowed a full night's sleep for once, seeing as Near was in the room with him checking out another possible lead on the computer.

Near's voice woke him. The first thing he saw was . . .

No, it couldn't be . . .

There he was, he was _right there_, a shocked expression on that wonderfully familiar face, blond hair catching the light of the computer screens, arms crossed defensively, but there--there was that smile, that expression that made Matt feel as if the two of them were alone in the world, the smile only Matt could draw reluctantly across Mello's face.

He leaped out of bed and threw his arms around his best friend's waist, forgetting, for the moment, all the disgusting feelings, even the dream he'd just woken up from which felt so wrong and so, so right at the same time.

"Mello you goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-_bitch_, I'm so glad you're back!"

**  
I died doing Matt's "feelings" (if you'd even grace those helter-skelter paragraphs as that)...urgh...and they were just randomly *there*. I can't do romance...go on, tell me it's dull, though I'd like to think there are *some* redeeming factors somewhere...**

**Miss Hal Gibson **- Nonono I swear in my inbox it came out as & l t ; 3...but then I looked at the actual *review* page and it was "shift-then-comma-key" 3! First, though, in the last review reply I put & l t ; without the spaces...and FFNet deleted it! *dies* I dunno if it'll delete it now that there are spaces...but it's "and-symbol" "l" "t" "semi-colon" "3" instead of what it actually is!!!  
...that...made...no sense whatsoever. Especially if it's deleted again...gwah! eeeevil o.O  
Thanks for the review! (wow, a relevant comment?)

**Living in a Fantasy** - Yup, separation is evil! I can't believe Mello just up and *left*...I'm still not over it, even this long after reading it (well, I didn't care at first, seeing as there was no Matteroo at that time, but when he was introduced, THEN Mello became a horrible friend. So there.)! Then again, I'm the one who's going to bake a giant cake and burn it in sacrifice to L on Halloween (aka his birthday)...I'm not alone, though! An amiga and my brother are doing it with me!  
...and, of course, fangirls the world over will be sobbing, eating chocolate, and playing videogames on January 26th next year. So we're not alone.  
Wonderful review, as usual! Thankee!

**Ayalli** - Haha I get why BB/Light! Serial killers! Wonder what kind of date they'd have...and there's the whole barrier of Light-thinks-BB's-one-of-those-people-who-the-world-could-do-better-without...but true love conquers all!  
Crack pairings are win ^^ (not exactly crack--better than RemxMatsuda, in any case--but close!)  
AND, I'm pretty sure you could wait to read this chappie. Forever. As it is...ugh. Pure ugh. Thank you for your lovely comments on the last one, though!

**Margstergirl **- Oh, I'm sorry about your best friend! T_T It's happened to me, too...you want to hate them, but you love them (not the way Matt loves Mello, but it's still love)! So not fair...you should slap 'im in the face. Meanie. I'm sorry again.  
But I do love combining angst/humor, 'cause that's what life's like, ya know? We temper the tragedies and sadness with laughter, because it's the only way we can get by. I mean, if we didn't have sadness, how could we know what happiness is? And vice-versa? We need an emotion's opposite to understand how powerful the emotion can be. Or...umm...something.  
Babbling is win! I love leaving reviews that are longer than some peoples' oneshots ^^...in your case, babble as much as you want if you'll make me laugh again (Mat was tihnking uhbout luv?! L. O. L.)!  
But this chapter...isn't...funny. I epic failed. :(

**ZomgKelley** - We are *all* young to the gnome-people! Though in human terms I'm young, too (I'm pretty sure everyone here is--can you imagine like some 60-year-old man on this site? My brother will probably be the first, when he gets that old!). When I was five, I was licking stuff I found on the ground...I really don't wanna go through that again...  
Heehee your reviews always make me laugh. Thank you!  
I REPLIED...AGAIN!

**Edward slept with Poison Akii **- Yes, bow down to my command and *review*! Thankee for doing so ^^  
I adore looking at others' take on the pairing, too, and some people are GREAT with original Matt/Mello! Lessee...I've seen...

Matt giving romance advice ("When you're in love with someone, you're prepared to do freaking anything to win their attention. Like, oh. I don't know. Go out and drive a car with twenty other police cars in pursuit shooting at you. Yes. You'd be willing to do even that.  
And if you're in love with an arrogant, stubborn, emotional blond that scarfs down bars of chocolate like his life depends on it, then...hey. You and me, we've got a lot in common. We should hang out sometime.  
And you should bring an extra xBox controller. Mello threw my other one out the window.") SO FUNNY! Skyskater--genius.  
...M'n'M's lost in the woods together, a prank war, a documentary, Matt spending all the rent money at the arcade, the M'n'M's in an office job, Mello getting amnesia...all NOT MINE (I can give you the authors if ya want), all incredibly good!

Yeah, my humor=cracky fail! ^^ But I can't see any of the Wammys living a ''normal'' life, so...yeah...Thank you for your funny comments!

**ace** - Aw, thank you! Glad to see that the wacky mood changes don't spawn hatred :D

**sakuragawa **- Again, thank you! I'm still stupefied people aren't all "Keep one tone you maniac!"...I guess bipolar!Mello is okay...*is still insecure* Lovely review!

**MattTheGamer **- Yeah, their entire lives basically are angst-potential, huh? I feel bad fo' them, too T_T...poor Mello...poor Matt...why, oh why did you die?!?!  
Thank you, as always, for your awesome review! And of course I hope your computer is all happy again (Matt would kill me for saying something as non-techy as that. I...can't use technology.)! You could always burst into a friend's house and be all 'Gimme your computer so I can write YAOI FANFICTION!!' They'll be so weirded out they'll let you!  
(What, me? Speaking from experience? No-o-oo...the weirdest thing *I've* said to a friend upon bursting into her house is 'Thank god you're here you have to hide my socks! My mom's going to match them!')

**ChocolateCrackhead **- You are a very funny person, you know that? Thank you for those three hilarious reviews! And wow...you review *every chapter* you read (saw it on your profile)? That takes some dedication! I try to review every fic, at least, that I read...but I'm not as Win as every frigging chapter! Ack!  
And yes this is my first DN fic (this chapter probably proves that)--I'm so happy you think 'tis good!--but certainly not my last! I've got so many ideas...L'n'Light's wedding (the size of the cake!), transgender Mello, imaginary-friend Near (to anyone reading this, go ahead and steal! Fanfiction, mah dears, fanfiction! Stealing is a-okay! Though I will track you down o.O)...stupid school, starting tomorrow and getting in the way...  
Heehee my school reminds me of Wammy's in that they post rankings on the wall! Well, that's the fanon-version of Wammy's, anyway, but yeahz!  
Thank you again! Haha, an Oxiclean ad? The government is tracking what we look at online and posting relevant commercials to get us to buy stuff and stimulate the economy! Mwahaha!!


	5. Hugging and Pressure Points

**Gaah-it's-been-over-a-month-school-is-evil-I-love-you-all-HI!  
STORYTIME:  
You see, I just started a high school that nobody else from my junior high is going to...so after the first day I was all emo depressed 'cos I missed my amigos so much T_T And my best friend called me as I was thinking about her! So I was all ready to start gushing about how much I missed her and wanted a hug and remembering the good times we had with Obsessions...but she deadpanned: "Can you summarize The LABB Murder Cases for me? I never finished the book and have a project..."  
I wanted to sceam. Did she care at all that I was at a scary new school all alone? Was I just a mooching resource for her? GWAH...  
And then I remembered this fic...and she's a blondie, and I'm a redhead...and she loves chocolate/videogames and doesn't really care about anything...and I want to be the best at everything *painfully*...so together we're an amalgamation of Mello and Matt!  
So I laughed 'til tears came to my eyes :D and she had no idea ^^  
AAND I sound like a stupid 14-year-old girl whose vocabulary consists of LOL and WTF...**

_Capitulo cinco,_

Mello kept his face masked until he reached their window, thankful it was situated on the first story of the enormous orphanage. One mistake, one appearance of his face on any camera--even Wammy's security footage--was enough to get him killed.

The field surrounding his home hadn't changed a bit. Sparse oak trees dotted the grounds up until the wrought-iron black fence, trees perfect for reading in during the spring which also served as football goals in summer, providers for huge leaf piles at autumn's crackling arrival, and a shield from snowballs when winter rolled along.

Matt hadn't ventured outside often, only doing so at Mello's insistence.

He didn't spare the trees a second glance, favoring instead the window in which Mello could see his best friend sleeping.

Of course he wasn't returning to Wammy's. It would put Matt into too much danger, and he wouldn't care, the brave idiot. As if hacking skills would help him survive what Mello had been through. Stupid.

But it was his birthday and Mello knew what he'd want if their positions had been reversed.

So he slid through the window with a cat's grace, as they had often done together after sneaking off of Wammy's property for one reason or another (usually to take the bus to a nearby town for chocolate and the arcade).

The room really hadn't changed at all, despite everything its occupants had endured. Mello's eyes, however, were trained on the reason for his visit.

Vivid red hair, tanned skin, a healthy build and a carefree grin accompanied by the _beepbeepbeep_ of some inane game; this had become the picture of Matt in his head. He'd often turned to this picture for comfort, pretended it was the real thing next to him...he'd remembered a stupid joke Matt had told him once and burst out laughing, then punched a man sitting next to him to vent his frustration and sadness...

_This_, though . . . it felt like a picture painted a thousand years ago, left untended in a dank corner and falling apart, rotting.

Matt's fiery hair had a matted, unwashed look to it, his complexion had turned a pallid gray, and he was so, so thin . . . what had _happened_ to him?

Before Mello knew it he had crossed the room and was gazing down at his best friend. Memories flashed through his head in rapid succession; Matt hunched over a gamecube controller, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, Matt's deep green eyes focused on Mello's own, Matt cheering him up after losing to Near--_again_--by acting like an idiot and making him laugh helplessly, Matt effortlessly hacking into a top-secret security database...

He shook his head, dispelling the memories buzzing around it like flies. He felt too tempted to stay, too tempted to wake Matt up and tell him what they both wanted to hear.

Remembering what he'd came to do, Mello pulled out a--no, he should make it three; Matt didn't look like he'd eaten a full meal in weeks--three chocolate bars from his pocket (it was _hard_ getting it out of the tight leather, but there was no way he'd change his clothes. The leather made him feel older, more suited for being a Mafia boss. Illusions, but...) and placed them on Matt's bedside table. He pulled out the note he'd written, folded it in half, and dropped it on top of the sweets, topping his present with two new game cartridges not yet released in Britain.

He'd spent an hour staring at the blank paper which now held a 'Happy Birthday' and a half-assed doodle of Mario and Pikachu in each corner. (He wondered if Matt would recognize the similarity of their colors and his and Mello's hair. Probably not, but whatever.) What did one _say_, anyway, to the only person they loved enough to hurt them as much as he'd hurt Matt? There was nothing he _could_ say, so he left the letter, grossly inadequate as it was.

Finally, he pulled his omnipresent rosary off of his head and reoriented it around Matt's, gently tucking it into his shirt. An absurd thought, that they'd keep each other safe.

He'd been found with that rosary around his neck. Somehow he'd stayed alive for an entire winter night on Wammy's doorstep when he was only a few weeks old. Mello knew it couldn't protect Matt against, for instance, Kira, but . . . maybe there was some sort of luck stored in it after all.

Idiotic. Superstitious. Irrational. Unfounded.

It stayed around Matt's neck.

Mello knew he should go now. Matt wasn't exactly a light sleeper, but if Mello stayed much longer he'd certainly be discovered. Maybe just five more minutes . . .

His hand moved unbidden to stroke Matt's hair and trace its fingers down his neck. Even in sleep he seemed tense but he let out a soft sigh at Mello's touch and relaxed. Mello smiled, too; just seeing Matt look vaguely happier had improved his mood so much. He pushed the tangled red mass out of Matt's eyes (he wished he could see the green, but it would make it that much harder to leave him behind) and gently worked out the knots in his hair. So soft . . .

This was too difficult. He had to go, now. With horror he saw Matt start to shift and murmur something sounding suspiciously like "Mello..."

Cupping his cheek for one final moment, Mello withdrew, striding back to the window, when he heard a voice.

"Mello is going to leave this establishment once more."

_"What the fuck, Near?!"_ He spat out in a fierce whisper. All the gentleness and happiness he'd felt and expressed melted away in an instant as that monotone seeped underneath his skin and itched_,_ fucking _itched_ at all of his being.

Near had been sitting at the far side of the room, blending in with the white walls almost perfectly. Mello couldn't _believe _he hadn't noticed him--if he'd been back at Headquarters that would have gotten him killed. The albino twit had beaten him _again_.

"Does 'winning' against me really warrant Mello leaving Matt and creating so much controversy." Stated in the format of a question, as Near was wont to do. Apparently the raise of pitch at the end of his questions was beneath him or something. Son-of-a...no, stay calm. This was what he wanted; Near _wanted _his emotions to get the better of him and to wake Matt up.

_"Near, I'm not going to talk to you. Goodbye. I'll see you when I have Kira's head."_ He whispered before crossing back to the window.

"Mello, I fear I cannot allow you to leave without awakening Matt," Near's voice rose and had its desired effect.

Mello couldn't move. He froze in anger, apprehension, and excitement as his friend sat up and sleepily muttered, "wha...?" When his eyes caught hold of Mello first pure shock, then the most radiant grin Mello had ever seen stretched across his face. He leaped up, clad only in a sleeveless shirt and boxers, and wrapped his arms around Mello's motionless form.

"Mello you goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-_bitch_, I'm so glad you're back!" Of course Matt thought he'd returned; he was _here_, wasn't he? So stupid. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

Now it was so much harder. Now, when Matt leaned their foreheads together, when their eyes--leaves and the ocean; rather reflective of their personalities--locked, Mello felt like he couldn't stop looking.

Couldn't stop his hands from reaching up and framing that familiar face.

Couldn't stop pressing their bodies closer together, which undoubtedly would be awkward were this a normal situation, with two normal fourteen-year-old boys in a normal crime-ridden world with normal serial killers and normal ambitions and normal families and . . .

His tears mingled with Matt's on the carpet.

"Matt," began an icy, unfeeling voice. This was the _last _person whose words Mello wanted to hear. Why was that twit even in his and Matt's _room,_ anyway--in the middle of the night?

As a chill of comprehension tried to dawn over Mello, Near continued, "Mello is not returning to the orphanage. He did not intend for you to awaken at all."

"What?" Their close proximity allowed Mello a perfect view of the hurt and fear that crossed Matt's face. "Mello, you were about to leave _again?_ Without even _telling_ me, _again_? Then why did you _come_ here? What do you think . . . how on earth can you . . ." Confused, incoherent. This wasn't Matt, not the Matt he thought he knew so well.

"Matt, I don't want--"

"No." Matt's arms constricted around him as his voice became equally steely. "Near, go get--I dunno, Ms. Bloomshield or someone, quick. We'll _force _him to stay." He bent to whisper fiercely into Mello's ear, "_You're not leaving me again._"

As strong as he was, Mello knew he couldn't overpower the 200-pound woman assigned to the orphans' wellbeing. If he was to escape, it would have to be now, but how could he physically shove away his best friend? It would hurt _Mello_ as much as it would Matt.

A familiar weight left his shoulders as the _click_ of the doorknob signified that Near had exited the room. He only had so much time . . .

Deep determination mingled with joy on Matt's face. "If we have to keep you locked up, Mells, we will. I've missed you so--so much, Mello." Arms clenched even tighter around him.

He sighed, but couldn't hide how happy he felt seeing Matt; intoxicated delight overflowing from every cell in his body.

_(Mello decided not to mention how Matt's supposed "laundry aid" had actually _ruined _about five hundred dollars' worth of clothes. It wasn't really Matt's fault, anyway, that Mello hadn't said on the phone that they'd be washing _leather_, which he now knew should not, under _any_ circumstances, venture into a washing machine. This really wasn't the time.)_

Mello's hands, which hadn't moved from around Matt's cheeks, now slid back to run through his hair again. Matt's eyes flickered shut serenely as glove-clad fingers tangled in strands of red hair; traced whorls on the back of his neck.

That one moment of letting his guard down was all he needed.

Matt's eyes didn't open. Wouldn't, not until Mello was far, far away.

Utilizing the new skills he'd picked up in the Mafia, Mello found the pressure point on the back of his friend's neck and twisted in a brutal pinch. He knew, judging by the lack on any emotion but surprise on Matt's face, that falling unconscious had been quick and painless.

The lanky frame slowly crumpled towards the floor before, of course, it landed in the arms of its best friend. Mello curled his hand gently around Matt's side and hoisted him up to his bed. Blankets were tenderly tucked around him before Mello turned to leave.

He felt, then, a compulsion. Mello always acted on his instincts, which were telling him right then to turn back around and press his lips to his friend's forehead. Without thinking, he stepped lightly to Matt's side, leaned over, and kissed the crown of his head. At the sound of thudding footsteps down the hallway, he leaped out the window and sprinted out of sight.

--

**ChocolateCrackhead: **Nwash, you're welcome ^^ If you had any STORIES, I'd be reading those too . Write! *Everyone* sucks at first...I'm going to look back on this in two years and want to kill myself for writing something so idiotic. So trryy ittt...and I'd love to see where everyone on here lives (I can't find any fangirls at mah new school T_T) but that would be stalkerish and probably there are some 40-year-old men posing as teenage girls somewhere on here (...O.o...)!  
I reallyreallyreally hope it's okay Mello's here...if he didn't want to be seen, and he's not back...? I. Need. CRITIQUE. Slap me in the face if it's too sporadic! And thank you for reviewing, as always!

**Margstergirl:**FFNet is a midget. It wouldn't let me log in, too, two years ago! Such a meanie...But go you! For slapping him, I mean :D I wish I had the nerve to slap my old friends...but I don't have the problem you do (my god, good luck being in the same homeroom)--my school is *completely new*: I. Know. Nobody. Which is NOT my strong suit...Ooh, and I adore being corny! But I despise when others are. I also hate hypocrites. And cerial killers (not my Frosted Flakes! NO! Light, how could you?) ^^  
IIII neeeeed to check out your DeviantArt! School is so mean! Meh. I'll just throw away homework time to go look (expect a 'zbunnieslikepie' reviewing soon! I can't draw and never really use the account, so nothing's on there...maybe I should post this there to be a review-wh0re there, too. Look, I censored for you even though I didn't need to! FEEL SPECIALER.)

**Living in a Fantasy:***wipes off giant sweat-drop* Thank you so much! You're so nice/supporting/clearing-up-woes-within-my-head! And maybe, one day, I'll figure out how to actually *develop* love (like you did ^^) and not just pull it out of thin (albeit confused) air...in any case, I must admit to being all fangirlish over Mello--in my own fic. Because I'm just THAT humble, modest, and not egotistical at all.

**Edward slept with Poison Akii:** "...soldiers at the Christmas Truce on opposite sides"?!?!?! MUST. READ.  
Honestly, though, us fic-writers just adore screwing with the pair, don't we? Though Tsugumi Ohba/Takeshi Obata are *just as bad*--I mean, hel-LO? Who would kill off the characters with the second-highest fanbase? LET ALONE the character who's loved the MOST? LLL!!! WHY DID YOU DIIIEEE?  
...but that's part of what we love about Death Note: the suspense and unpredictability! One couldn't even be sure who'd win in the end, OR who they *wanted* to win. It's honestly such a higher-quality manga/anime...lovelovelove ^^

**ZomgKelley: **The idea of a 60-year-old disturbs me greatly, too...sad thing is, in 46 years, that 60-year-old will probably be me! Well, a lot can change between 14 and 60; I'll probably not care about this site at all then T_T  
Barbie dolls...ah, the memories :D Just kidding; I was more of a stuffed-animal type of gal myself. I wouldn't mind being a kid again! Everything used to be so simple before I realized I WASN'T the center of the universe :(  
And spazzing is loved! GRINDLEVALD!

**Ayalli:**I don't think BB was twisted...more like completely insane. All that psychological pressure of becoming *L*, the greatest detective in the world...if it drove A to suicide and Mello/Matt/Near to, well...Mello/Matt/Near, then poor B doesn't really stand a chance. And Light, well, he's even more special of a case. The power of the Death Note brings out the worst in everybody, I think, and poor Light expected the rest of the world to be as pure as he was, which ended up completely staining his psyche with black, black blood...  
Heehee, so I think by 'twisted' you meant 'seriously f*cked up'. I geddit...;)

**Miss Hal Gibson: **...oh no...I didn't want it to be funny...mlaw, whateva. Thank you for the review! ^_^

**MattTheGamer: **I know what you mean about not being able to write anywhere but in a specific place. I used to only be able to write fanfics at this fountain in a cemetary half an hour's jog away from my house...which meant: a) I had to write it out on paper first then type it, which I only do now if I write something at school and takes an enormous amount of time, and b) I took about a month to write a chapter :D So I'd write multiple chaps of the same fic *then* post it slowly to allow for the time lag of writing a new chap...which works for about three chapters and then I--oh god, I sound so boring. You don't give a damn ;)  
As for the whole 'Mello-coming-back-now-wouldbe-random' issue, I reallyreally hope this isn't too random! I mean, if it's just 'cos it's Matty's birthday and Mello didn't actually mean to be seen...? Gah, now I'm afraid TT Tell me if it sucks!

**queen of poker: **Aw, thankee! I still can't believe people are actually *reading* this and actually *care* enough to tell me when there's an issue or if they just like it...^^

Enjy: Oh...thankee muchly for the lovely review! Haha, everyone seems to see themselves/their friend in Mello'n'Matt--just a couple of teenaged girls, the M'n'M's :D  
No, I mean, seriously--good luck with your friend and all, along with all the other people who've said something along those lines! (my A/N at the beginning should be a tribute to mine XD but that is under NO circumstances ANY sort of romance...)

**Ah lurves joo all!**


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